Hysaeda had no intentions of keeping her as an object. He didn't look at her that way, and though slaves were possessions and treated as such, to keep his only real friend as one seemed more offensive to him. His father would more than likely agree that he ought to take her out into the wild and release her. Outlanders never made good slaves anyway, he would justify it. But thinking about that last thing made Hysaeda feel as if he were treating Adalia like an animal. Which, in a way, he was. Perhaps subconsciously, this was his way of getting back at her for the weeks she had him tied to ropes and trailing off behind that damned horse. A horse he was really starting to like.
But then she said something that made him go stiff, pause in thought and deep silence that felt as if a skin had just peeled away from his back. Painful, slow, and tedious. Hysaeda looked at her and gulped on a now very dry throat. He reached into his bag and pulled out a flask, a small one, and unscrewed the top. He took a sip of it and took a breath before offering it to her. Silence still, but he needed time to really think about what she said and what it all meant. He knew she wasn't one to mix words up without knowing what she was saying unlike other women that complained about miscommunication when they couldn't even tell others what they meant in the first place. Her honesty, now seemed, a bit like a double-edged sword.
But maybe she was wrong. Maybe he did sort of had feelings for her, only he didn't know it. Perhaps it was a different kind of feeling though. He couldn't really sort it out for himself; for he'd never known that kind of love for another and it was difficult to understand something one had never truly experienced. The spurned would always be rejected one way or another. It was to be their fate, a direction dictated in the stars. And Hysaeda knew he would probably never be destined to know that kind of love. But he was finding himself awfully attached to Adalia, after all the time they'd spent together.
"I think I can understand what you mean," he tried, not looking at her and taking another sip of the flask that he'd offered her. "But I'm not sure of what I feel, but I do know that I like you. I must have always liked you, but circumstances made it difficult for me to show it in a constructive manner. You're the only real friend I've ever had, one that's never really judged me too harshly because I'm different. You know what it's like, in a sense, to izhkram, to belong but to not belong... and there's a camaraderie between us that I haven't really had with anyone else. I care about you Adalia, no matter what you feel, I really do. I hope you understand me."
